


Something Like Love in Run Down Places

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Series: Toxic Punk Boys [2]
Category: Fright Night (2011), Laws of Attraction (2004)
Genre: Anal Sex, Drug Use, M/M, Making Out In Public, Mentions of Mental Illness, Oral Sex, Peter had a really rough upbringing, Sex, Thorne has issues, alochol, mentions of homopobhia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Peter's about ready to lose his mind completely over his aunt worrying about him and his substance abuse issues, he's thankful that Thorne is still in the general area so that he can go out for the night and just forget about his problems and his past.
Relationships: Peter Vincent/Thorne Jamison
Series: Toxic Punk Boys [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664806
Comments: 67
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Peter sat at the small round table in his aunt Mary’s kitchen, his aunt was busying herself with fixing lunch for the both of them despite the fact that he assured her multiple times that he wasn’t hungry and that he was going to eat something later when he went out with a friend. He smiled when his phone vibrated against the table’s surface, he picked it up to check his new text.

Thorne: Still wanna hang? 

Peter: Course I do, fucking ready to lose my shit here. I think my aunt knew u were here

Thorne: She psychic or somethin’? Last bird I dated claimed she was psychic.

Peter: She just knows me well, doesn’t trust me

She used to trust him back when he’d been a mere child with his wide brown eyes full of fear and worry about the horrible crime, he’d heard occur through his bedroom wall. She’d done her best to steer him in the correct direction in life; she sent him to the best school she could until he got himself kicked out for bad behavior, she tried to help him make the right types of friends, and become passionate about something that wasn’t drinking and self-harming. The only thing he’d become remotely passionate about had been playing guitar, but even that had faded way until he only cared about drinking and drugs.

“You mentioned going out with a friend today.” 

Peter shoved his phone back into his pocket straightening up in his seat as she set a plate in front of him. He lifted the bread off the top of the sandwich to see what she’d made; from all he could tell it was a ham sandwich, not his favorite, especially not with mayonnaise, but he’d eat it.

“Yeah, yeah should be ‘round here in a couple hours. Maybe sooner if they don’t got anything going on.” He casually replied, he took a bite from his sandwich deciding to instead focus on his food instead of his aunt who was staring at him with concern and distrust.

Seriously he was technically a grown man, he didn’t need his family treating him like he was still thirteen.

“Is this one of your friends from when you were a teenager?”

He looked up at her, “course not, I haven’t seen any of them since I left this place.” 

He really hadn’t, technically they’d all cut off contact with him after his suicide attempt. It was a heavy topic that none of them wanted to face or discuss with him, not a single one of them had come to see him in the hospital or checked in on him once he’d returned home. He remembered how much worse the aftermath of his attempt had been, realizing how much nobody gave a shit about him. He tried not to think about that now, it wasn’t what he wanted to think about.

“I didn’t think you knew anybody here, I know that you have your….Friends in the states.”

He smirked at the way she said the word friends, that hesitant disdain. She’d seen the articles about him, the photos of him in clubs piss drunk and hanging around people who were a terrible influence on him. She knew that he’d been hooking up with a woman named Ginger, but he’d never told her that Ginger had been murdered, though she’d never asked him.

“It’s complicated, I met him in Nevada, he’s from England, but lives in California.”

He technically moved around a lot depending on his legal troubles.

There was a returned silence as Peter ate, his aunt staring down at her teacup as if it was a source of answers to why her nephew was the way that he was. This sort of things was why he’d not wanted to stay here longer than necessary, but then he’d had to run into Thorne. He very easily could have just promised to hit him up once they were both back in America, but this seemed more convenient, they were both here, and being able to see him almost whenever he wanted made things a lot easier.

“You know that I just worry about you, I see the articles about you on the internet, and I get worried.”

Peter sighed running his fingers back through his hair. “Yeah I know you do, I’m fine, nothing to worry about.”

He nervously tapped his fingers against the table watching the way the light reflected off the rings adorning his long fingers. 

“Do you, do you think that it’s healthy to do shows about monsters?”

He bit the inside of his mouth holding back the urge to just get up and storm out of the room. “It’s just fiction y’know I don’t….I’m not….It’s just pretend, okay?” 

He didn’t look at her, he couldn’t look at her. He felt like bolting.

Loud pounding against the front door made him jump nearly falling out of his chair. 

“Who could that be?”

“That would be my friend, look I’ll be back later, might text you let you know I’m fine. Just don’t worry about me, got it?” He said hurriedly as he got up from his seat rushing away from the small kitchen and to the front door.

He pulled open the door to see Thorne standing on the other side, smirk on his face the second he saw Peter standing there. 

“Look like you’re ready to crawl out of your skin.” He commented as he took in his friend’s appearance.

Peter laughed, “feel like it, fucking ready to lose my shit.” He muttered as he placed a hand against his chest pushing him away from the door so that he could leave the house before his aunt came in wanting to meet his bad influence of a friend.

He shut the door behind them feeling less stressed as he stepped outside into the cool air. It always felt like he could breathe again when he was away from his family, away from facing reality and judgement, it was what he liked about Thorne; he never judged him. Somedays Peter was sure he didn’t really care much about him at all, but that didn’t matter, it was safer to not be cared about. He looped an arm around his waist as they headed towards Thorne’s car. 

“So where are we headed to?” Peter asked once they were inside the car, music blaring on the stereo; the car reeked of cigarette smoke and possibly vomit.

“My hotel, it’s actually the only hotel in this area that hasn’t banned me yet. They fucking haven’t got a clue of who I am, pity them about when I do check out.” 

“Would it kill you to not trash the place?”

“Ah c’mon what would be the fun in that, I’d be a shit rock star if I didn’t fuck the place up. Least nobody’s called the cops on me yet.”

Peter smiled, “still got time for that, way your temper is.” He commented, a fondness to his voice as he watched out the window as they left the small neighborhood and headed into the city.

He never felt right in small towns or suburban neighborhoods. There were too little people, they were all closed minded stuck in a time that passed them by before Peter was even conceived. It had driven him insane growing up, being surrounded by other boys who were purely interested in girls as puberty hit them like a truck. While Peter had also taken a liking to girls, he’d also taken a liking to some of the boys but learned the hard way that they did not quite like that he looked at them in that way. He’d tried to just listen to the top charts pop music, but couldn’t get into it; he liked rap, but he didn’t like the boy bands and all that. Shame for him that in his area people tended to like safer music, never too fond of 50 Cent or Minor Threat. He stuck out like a socially awkward angry sore thumb all through his teen years until he finally just called it quits and left England all together. He knew he could have stayed, could have lived in a city where he’d be fine as he was, but he wanted far away from the country where his parents had been killed. He’d been terrified that the vampire that killed them would somehow find him if he stayed in the country so he’d popped over to America, to Vegas where nobody gave a flying fuck about him or the way he presented himself. Then he’d made it big and gotten the validating positive attention that England had never given him.

Being back in England, in a small shit hole town was strange, not in a good way. Though Thorne made it good, he glanced over at the man smiling as he watched him drum his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat of the bass. He was the sort of mess that Peter should stay far away, but that knowledge only drew him closer to the man. 

The hotel that they arrived at was nice, the type of fancy place that drew the both of them in. Peter noticed the way the suits and the well-dressed women in the lobby looked at them in a way that said, ‘you don’t belong here.’ Thorne didn’t seem aware of those looks and if he was then he enjoyed it, he always seemed to enjoy placing himself in scenes where he didn’t quite fit or belong. Peter always got itchy and bored when he was around this sort of shit, he’d never understood how men could wear suits all the time let alone just plain black and white ones or if they were feeling a certain way they might wear a deep navy blue suit as if it made any bit of a difference. He felt more at ease once they were on the lift, it helped that the second the doors slid closed that Thorne took hold of his wrist pulling him flush against his body then backed him up against the wall.

“Eager much?” He asked as he felt lips against his neck tracing over bruises from the previous night.

“I got cocaine and enough booze to feed a small village, sound good?” He asked, breath hot against Peter’s skin as he slid his hand up under his shirt nails scratching down his stomach.

Peter moaned, he buried his fingers in his hair pulling his head up and kissing him hard, tongue pressing into his mouth as he placed his other hand against his ass pulling him impossibly closer to himself. 

“Sounds like Heaven,” he whispered against his mouth. He bit and sucked against his bottom lip.

This was easy, he could do this, he could live his life this way. Forgetting, not remembering, burying himself in drugs and alcohol, in a warm body that wanted him so badly that it drove him crazy sometimes when he thought about it. He closed his eyes leaning his head back against the cool metal wall as he felt lips trailing down his neck, a hot wet tongue soothing against bruises and bite marks as hands continued to touch along his bare stomach rucking his shirt up until it was up to his chest. Their heated making out only ceased when the doors slid open, Thorne kissed him once more before taking hold of his hand and dragging him out of the lift and down the brightly lit hallway. For a moment Peter thought about how it looked like the hallway in The Shining with the twin girls and the kid on the tricycle. Outside of reminding him of a ghost hotel it looked nice, everything Thorne surrounded himself with looked nice though until he dirtied it or set fire to it. They came to a stop outside of a room towards the end of the hall; room 104. Peter waited as he got out the key and unlocked the door guiding him inside. 

The room was exactly what Peter imagined it would be, large and spacious almost like a miniature home. A home that had been ransacked by mischievous teenagers. There were clothes thrown around the floor, a pair of jeans thrown over a chair at the small dining table, empty bottles and beer cans along with takeout containers littered the table. The TV that had been mounted on the wall now was on the floor leaning back against the dresser, lingerie and high heels laid on the floor at the foot of the bed, more bottles, cigarette butts and ashes on the floor. Thorne turned to face him seeming absolutely proud of the wreckage he and his various friends and groupies had created. Peter had to say it was oddly impressive.

“How in the actual fuck have they not noticed this?”

Thorne placed his hands on his hips pulling him close against him, “always got that do not disturb sign on the door, don’t want them finding out until I’m out of here.” He answered before pressing a kiss against his jaw.

“Clever,”

“I know, I’m a fucking genius, can be anyway.” He muttered as he continued kissing along his jaw, fingers brushing against his hips as he began pushing his shirt up again.

Peter pulled back long enough to remove his shirt tossing it to the floor along with all the other mystery clothes, he kicked off his shoes as he placed a hand against the back of Thorne’s neck drawing him into a kiss. Thorne moved his hands to Peter’s belt quickly unbuckling it as he was backed up towards the large bed. He gripped his hips lifting him up from the floor and laying him down on the bed climbing on top of him settling on his lap. Peter moaned into the kiss as he felt black painted nails scratching down his back, he pressed his hips down against him grinding against him allowing him to feel how aroused he’d gotten him. Thorne pressed up against him, hand moving to Peter’s ass pressing him down. Peter kissed along his neck, grabbed the hem of his shirt pushing it up his body, he pulled back long enough to pull his shirt off him. He leaned back down trailing kisses along his chest, tongue flicking against his right nipple sucking it into his mouth. He moaned as he felt nails digging into his shoulder, closed his eyes as he listened to his friends whimpering moans. He kissed down his body biting and sucking against his stomach, his hands touched along his body wanting to adore every inch of him.

All thoughts of his conversation with his aunt faded from his mind, he groaned when Thorne roughly tugged his hair pulling his head up.

“Got cocaine there on the stand.” He informed him nodding towards the small stand beside the bed.

Peter smiled as he moved to retrieve a small black box off the stand, he opened it to see the small glass vials inside. He pulled one out uncapping it and carefully pouring the white powder onto his friend’s stomach, he pulled the small straw from the box and leaned down snorting up the line as soothing fingers pet through his hair. He closed his eyes cursing at the sharp burn in his nostril as he pulled back rubbing at his nose. Thorne placed his hand on the back of his neck pulling him down and kissing him slowly, tongue stroking across his bottom lip before pressing into his mouth. Peter’s hands made their way to his hips pulling him close against him as he rutted against him moaning into the kiss. 

“Need you to fuck me, right now.” Thorne whispered against his lips giving another tug to his hair.

Peter kissed him once more before pulling back, he awkwardly worked his skinny jeans and boxer briefs down kicking them off and onto the floor, he had a slightly easier time undressing his friend. He leaned down pressing a kiss against his hip then against his stomach, tongue lavishing against his skin as he licked up towards his chest. He reached back over to the bedside table grabbing a half empty bottle of lube and a condom. He uncapped the bottle coating his fingers with the substance, he kissed along his stomach as he slowly pressed two fingers inside him carefully thrusting them into him, adding a third only when Thorne rocked back against his hand whining for him to go faster. He bit against his hip as he thrust his fingers into him, the tips of his fingers stroking against his prostate. He slowly pulled his fingers out of him; he rolled on the condom and coated his length with lube. He leaned up kissing him as he entered him, moaning as he felt the tight heat of his body wrapped around his cock. Legs locked around his lower back pulling him in completely, he rocked into him building up a steady pace. He buried his face against the side of his neck, hands gripping his hips firmly as he thrust into him harder drawing more lovely whines and moans of pleasure from him. He liked them not having to be quiet, sure the people in the room next to this one could hear Thorne moaning like a dramatic porn star, but Peter didn’t really care what total strangers thought of him. His own moans were lower, muffled against his neck as he bit and sucked against his skin wondering just how many love bites they both could end up with before parting ways for God knows how long again. 

“Love the way you moan for me.” Peter muttered against his skin, he reached between them taking Thorne’s cock in hand stroking him.

He kissed along his jaw, lips meeting his again as he kissed him hungrily. He moaned as nails bit into his shoulder hard enough to break skin, with a few more thrusts he came. He moved his hand from his cock to his hip as he rode through his orgasm. He kissed against the front of his throat as he took a second before slowly pulling out of him. He moved to sit next to him on the bed sliding down until he was practically laying down, he slipped off the condom tying it off and tossing it to the floor. 

“C’mere, want you to fuck my mouth.” 

Thorne smiled as he ungracefully moved from his spot on the bed. Peter adjusted himself until he was nearly laying down, Thorne kneeling over him with his knees on either side of him. Peter placed a hand against his lower back, fingers stroking against his skin, he stuck out his tongue flicking it against the head of his cock before taking it into his mouth sucking slowly, eyes locked up on the other man’s as he took more of his length into his mouth humming around him. He moaned when Thorne placed a hand against the back of his head, fingers tangling in short brown hair as he pushed his head down further, hips thrusting as he pushed his cock further into his mouth. He cursed and moaned as he slowly thrust into Peter’s mouth. 

He tried to keep his eyes focused on his friend as he sucked him, tongue trailing along the underside of his cock occasionally teasing his tip as Thorne fucked into his mouth and down his throat. Peter pushed against his back; Thorne thrust into his mouth moaning as he scratched against his scalp. He swallowed around him as he bobbed his head along his length, drool running down his chin and dripping onto his chest as he relaxed his throat. He placed his free hand against his lower stomach nails lightly scratching his skin as he moaned around his cock. It didn’t take long until Thorne was cumming into his mouth, Peter swallowed around him swallowing as much of his release as he could. Thorne slowly pulled back out of his mouth, moving to flop down by his side. 

“Fuckin’ Hell that was nice.” He said as he rested his head against Peter’s chest. 

“Real nice, we should do that more, the whole fucking thing y’know.” He said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders keeping him close against him.

“Agreed, could always just shack up for a bit when we’re back in the states. I could stay at your place for a bit y’know, like it there.” He suggested pressing a kiss against his chest.

“Could do that, doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea.”

He’d been feeling lonely lately and the thought of going back to Vegas and spending weeks or months alone in his flat didn’t sound overly appealing especially now when he had a familiar warm body curled up against his side. 

“Think maybe in a bit we can shower off, do more coke, and then go back to that pub I met you at last night. Could use a drink.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

He debated on letting his aunt know that he was still alive, he’d text her when they got in the car to head down to the pub. He might leave out the part about going out drinking and obviously she didn’t need to know that he was still indeed using drugs. He just needed an excuse to stay out for a few hours more.


	2. Chapter 2

The pub was near empty just as it had been the night before when the two of them had been there. The bartender the same as the night before, the same scowl on his aged face as he saw the two already mildly inebriated men stumble into the dimly lit building. The few patrons in the building seated in booths glared in their direction annoyed by their loud voices, barks of laughter, and the way one of the two felt the need to shout his drink orders instead of speak in a normal tone like a normal human being. Low business and the one in the leather jacket with the spiked brown hair paying in cash kept the bartender from tossing them on their asses.

Peter slumped over the bar, he downed his fifth shot of whiskey followed by the sixth and then the seventh, he laughed into his empty shot glass. He glanced over to see Thorne already somewhere in the double digits in terms of his drinking. They’d started drinking in the hotel in the shower, passing a bottle of wine back and forth, once out of the shower they’d done a bit more coke, drank some more wine, and then eventually managed out of the hotel, in their car, and by some miracle of God they managed to get to the pub without dying. 

“Think we’re like impossible to kill.” Peter suddenly muttered as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Think so? Like if we played Russian Roulette think we’d survive it?” He asked grinning.

Peter laughed leaning against his side, Thorne wrapped an arm around his waist holding him up to keep him from just falling off the bar stool. He shoved another shot glass into Peter’s hand, he happily downed it.

“Maybe, I dunno man fuck-fuck it could work. Like we didn’t wreck or like kill anybody, fuck knows I’ve nearly died a ton of times ever since I was a kid, never worked.”

Thorne chuckled, “same here, luck of the stupid maybe.” He suggested pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Peter was too wasted to notice the bartender glaring at them, the old man had been shooting them annoyed looks ever since they arrived. Thorne placed more money on the bar shoving it at the man who begrudgingly took it this time bringing them a bottle of vodka. Thorne grabbed it up taking a drink from the bottle then offering it to Peter who shook his head. He pushed away from his friend attempting to sit on his own, he ran his fingers back through his hair trying to steady himself or the world that was rapidly spinning around him.

“Think I’ve hit my limit, fuckin’ everything is spinnin’.” 

“Th-that’s when you know you’ve had a good night. C’mon let’s get outside, sober up a bit.” He suggested as he slipped off the bar stool nearly tripping and falling over his own feet.

Peter joined him once more leaning against his side, head resting against his shoulder as Thorne led him out of the pub and into the cold night air. He guided him towards the edge of the building where they could hardly be seen, Peter leaned against the brick wall taking in deep breaths of the cool clean air. He glanced over to see Thorne light up a joint taking a puff from it before offering it to him, he happily took it taking a drag of his own. They stood in silence for awhile just smoking and watching the cars that drove down the road at a much more reasonable speed than Thorne had been going. Once the joint was nothing more than a small nub and the world stopped spinning like a carousel Peter moved to stand in front of his friend, he placed a gentle hand against his chest pressing him back against the building’s front. Thorne smiled up at him, eyes alight with lust and mischief as he placed a hand against the back of Peter’s neck drawing him down and kissing him slowly, lazily, his tongue stroking against his bottom lip. Peter pressed close against him warming his body with his own as they continued to kiss, he softly moaned into the kiss as he felt fingers brushing through his hair.

“Faggots!” A man shouted; a small rock pelted the back of Peter’s head. He pulled back to glare at the man still not sobered up enough to come up with a proper reaction to him.

“Oi what the fuck did you just say?” Thorne shouted back pushing Peter back as he started towards the man who was still walking down the sidewalk.

“You heard me.” He shouted back over his shoulder.

Thorne ran up to the man grabbing him by his shoulder roughly turning him around to face him, the man jerked away from his grip nearly knocking Thorne off balance. The man hauled off punching him in the face, Thorne stumbled back and Peter started towards the two not sure what to do for a moment until he saw his friend charge him punching the man in the stomach causing him to double over. 

“Say it again you fuckin’ pig.” He growled out angrily as he grabbed the back of the man’s neck, he pulled his leg back ready to kick the man in the face until Peter wrapped an arm around his waist hauling him off his feet and pulling him back and away from the doubled over man.

Peter wrapped both arms around his thrashing friend who continued to threaten to kick in the man’s teeth, he managed to drag him away down the nearest alley before the man could gather himself again. Once they were hidden safely away Peter set Thorne back down on his feet, he grabbed him by the shoulders holding him at a short distance so he could properly see his face. His pupils were blown, blood staining his nose and running down over his lips.

“Fuck you doing back there?” He asked as he wiped his thumb across his bottom lip spreading blood across it.

“Defending your honor if you’d let me, guy deserves to get his fucking ass kicked.” He argued starting to move away from him, only stopping when Peter grabbed him by the arm.

“Guy is a fucking piece of shit, I’m not saying he’s not, last thing I need is your ass getting arrested though.” 

If Thorne got into a big fight then Peter would also have to join in on said fight, somebody, definitely the bartender would call the cops, and the last thing Peter even in his drunken state wanted to do was have to make a call to his aunt telling her that he was locked up because him and his friend got very wasted and got into it with a local bigot. He was grateful that Thorne wasn’t fighting him on being dragged into a back street that served as a shortcut to his aunt’s house. 

“Gotta admit though like that was very nice of me doing that.” Thorne argued as he wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist, fingers curling in his denim jacket. 

Peter kissed the top of his head, “yeah it was, kind of hot watching you go after that guy.”

It was, he always enjoyed seeing his friend get into it with people. That was until he ended up dragged into the fights, only dragged in because he never wanted to see Thorne get seriously injured.

“Nose okay?”

Thorne pressed against it, “yeah it’s fine, not fucking broken or anything y’know.” He shrugged it off leaning up to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek.

When they arrived at his aunt’s house it took longer than it should for him to fish the spare key from his jeans pocket and get it into the lock. “Now not sure if she’s still awake or not, so be fucking quiet.” He warned him as he pushed the door open.

He cursed under his breath when he heard the clear sounds of his aunt puttering around in the kitchen putting dishes away. He quietly closed the door behind them, he turned to glare at Thorne in warning, the last thing he needed was his aunt seeing his bloodied very high friend. 

“Peter is that you?” She called from the kitchen.

“Y-yeah it’s me, sorry I forgot to text you.” He’d texted her, just not in the past two hours.

“Bathroom is across from my room, go wait for me in there.” Peter whispered to Thorne gently pushing him in that direction.

Thankfully his friend listened and stumbled down the hall towards the room he’d been directed to go into. Peter idled in the living room unsure of if his aunt would want to speak to him, to lecture him about being out for so long with hooligans that she didn’t know nor trust.

“As long as you’re back here safe and fine, you are fine, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good here, nothing to worry about. Hey um I’m gonna take a quick shower before I head off to bed.” He informed her as he already started down the hallway not wanting to stick around for her potential questions or reminders that she did somehow at the end of the day love him.

He’d spent his entire adolescence trying to convince his aunt that he wasn’t worth caring about or loving, he spent his adult life still on that mission wanting to make sure everybody that he came into contact with knew it was a waste of their time and effort to try and love him. He just made everybody miserable with his bull shit anyways, she’d learned the hard way.

In the bathroom he found Thorne going through the medicine cabinet pulling out the prescription bottles and checking the scripts, Peter grabbed away the bottle of pain killers he was attempting and failing to uncap to the point he tried to use his teeth.

“Those aren’t yours.”

“No shit, c’mon my fucking head hurts y’know.” He whined.

“Too bad,”

“Last time I defend your honor if you won’t even let me have some free pills.” He muttered as he pulled himself up onto the countertop.

Peter reached around him to grab a cloth, wetting it. He could feel Thorne watching him, this wasn’t the first time they’d done this. One of them getting their ass kicked or accidentally hurting themselves and then the other looking after them in a bathroom or dragging them to a hospital. Peter placed his fingers under his chin gently pushing his head back as he began carefully washing the blood from his skin.

He stopped when Thorne took hold of his wrist pulling his hand away from his face, he turned Peter’s wrist over brushing his thumb along the thick faded scar that ran along his skin. There was a different look to his face as he looked at the scar, Peter swallowed hard wanting to jerk his hand away from him. 

“We match a bit, got one of those too.” He said, voice quiet as he held his own wrist out for Peter to see, the scar was jagged, longer. “They put you away afterwards too?”

Peter shook his head, he suddenly felt very aware of the bath tub in the room; he could almost hear the phantom sounds of his aunt screaming his name, the water splashing over the lip of the tub as she pulled his thin frame up from the water. He swallowed hard closing his eyes. 

“No, um I just, suicide watch in the hospital for a bit.”

Thorne pet his fingers through his hair, his touch soothing. “Anybody come to see you?”

“Fuck no, not a single one of my friends came. They all just stopped talking to me after it happened, like they couldn’t fucking handle being around me.”

“Fuck those guys, I would’ve come seen you y’know, if we’d been mates then.” He offered, fingers brushing against his cheek.

Peter opened his eyes looking up at him, nearly regretful of the action. All of his cockiness was gone, he just looked solemn and caring, really caring, not that fake head nod bull shit his therapists and his casual friends pulled where they were just pretending, they gave a toss about him. He leaned up kissing him gently, his own hands coming to rest on his legs. He felt his heart hammering in his chest as they kissed, none of their typical drunken desperation in the act, it terrified him beyond belief to be kissing him this way.

Knocking on the door startled them, “Peter I’m going to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Right, okay, see you in the morning.” He called back, voice cracking.

Thorne smiled, started to say something until Peter clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t, last thing I want is to explain you here.” He pulled his hand away when Thorne licked against his palm.

He gave it a couple of minutes before he was certain his aunt was in bed falling asleep to whatever late night shows she played on the TV, usually she fell asleep to the shopping networks. He helped Thorne down off the counter and the two snuck out of the bathroom, across the hall and into his room. 

Thorne sighed removing his jacket and boots, he slipped out of his jeans and flopped back onto Peter’s bed. He rolled over onto his side reaching to grab the TV remote from the bedside table before sitting with his back to the headboard, he flicked the TV on, a sickly light cast over the room as the low volume filled the room. Peter got out of his own clothes until he was only in his boxers, he crawled into bed next to him wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Thorne scooted closer until he was pressed against his side, head resting against his shoulder as he flipped through the channels eventually landing on MTV. Peter hit his head back against the headboard groaning.

“C’mon we aren’t watching this shit.”

“It’s not shit, c’mon can’t fucking tell me you don’t like the programs on here.” He said gesturing towards the TV.

Another reality show was playing, the millionth one on the channel about a group of hot people in their twenties staying in a beach house hooking up and fighting over petty shit until they were voted off one by one. 

“Like the music videos,” 

“Like mine?”

Peter laughed, “sure, couple of them don’t suck too much.” He teased; Thorne smacked him with the remote.

“If I didn’t like you so fucking much I might be quite hurt by that comment.” He said pouting.

Peter leaned down kissing him gently, “not all your music sucks.” He whispered smiling against his lips.

There was a comfortable silence between them as they settled into watching the show. Well Thorne was watching it; Peter wasn’t fully invested even though he felt Jenny was using everybody in the house and needed to get voted off. Everything was comfortable in this moment, almost too comfortable in a sense. He rubbed his hand along his friend’s arm, fingers tracing over his tattoo, he couldn’t remember really feeling like this with anybody before even when he’d been with Ginger. That scared him, he wasn’t sure what exactly to call it, was scared to give a title or a name to this situation or to the way his heartbeat faster when he felt Thorne stroking his fingers against his stomach. He was pretty sure they could do this forever if they wanted to, normally he’d be very positive that Thorne would never want that, but then what happened in the bathroom, and those occasional times where they were so fucking wasted they were nearly coherent and he felt something change. Maybe he was just too high and too drunk, his mind was running through a lot of thoughts and half them made him want to scream, because they weren’t thoughts and feelings, he felt safe acting on. 

He sighed when he felt lips press softly against his chest, he looked down meeting blue eyes. Peter pet his fingers through his hair, closed his eyes leaning his head back when he felt soft lips press against his chest again trailing kisses along his skin. He smiled when he felt Thorne shift until he was settled on his lap, hands against his sides as he continued kissing along his skin, upwards his lips trailing along his throat. There was a word swelling up in him that he wanted to speak, but he choked it back down. He felt his friend nuzzle against the side of his neck, felt him bite and suck against his skin, his breath hot and wet against his skin as those calloused fingers of his roamed down his body. He softly moaned when he felt a hand slip under the band of his boxers, fingers wrapping around his cock lazily stroking him. Thorne captured his lips in a languid kiss, tongue pressing into his mouth stroking against his own. Peter placed his hands against his hips, nails scratching against his skin. Thorne reached over to the bedside table picking up a bottle of lube, he ceased in his stroking long enough to coat his hand with lube then went back to what he’d been doing a second before this time the sensation much nicer as Peter bit down on his lip to keep from crying out in pleasure. Thorne kissed along his jaw, humming against his skin as he stroked him faster, thumb circling the head of his cock before teasing against his tip. He flicked his tongue against Peter’s earlobe before sucking against it this time earning a pathetic whine of pleasure from his friend. Thorne pulled away from him, Peter opened his eyes watching as the other man stripped out of his underwear, leaning back onto his elbow, legs spread and bent at the knees as he slipped his hand down pressing two fingers into his hole. Peter groaned watching him finger himself, he took his cock in hand stroking himself as he watched him, watched the way he eagerly thrust his fingers inside himself, head tossed back as soft restrained moans escaped him. Peter’s cock twitched when he heard his name fall from his lips. 

He didn’t know if it was the drugs and the alcohol that had him on such an edge of eagerness and euphoria but it felt like literal fucking Heaven when Thorne was straddling him again, lowering himself down onto his cock taking him in inch by inch. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist holding him close, their skin flush together as they kissed at a slow easy pace as they’d done earlier. Peter moaned into the kiss as he felt his body on him, thrust up into him, felt him rocking his hips against him taking in all of his cock. Thorne’s fingers dug in against his shoulders as he thrust against him, his moans low and breathy, head hung as he fucked himself against him. Peter kissed along his jaw, bit against his neck to keep from crying out from pleasure.

“Fucking Hell, love the way you feel.” He whispered hotly against his skin, lips trailing along his collar bones.

Fingers tangled in his hair pulling, nails scratching his scalp. He closed his eyes listening to the soft moans and whines, a sharp difference to what had happened in the hotel earlier in the day. Peter reached between them taking hold of his cock stroking him, he flicked his tongue against his right nipple then the left, kept his free hand pressed against the small of his back. He lifted his head kissing him again, moaned as Thorne bit and sucked against his bottom lip, felt a shiver down his spine at the way those lustful eyes stared into him like there was something more or Peter was so high he thought that there was. It didn’t take long until he came inside him, Thorne slumped against him, face pressed to his chest, moaning and softly begging until he was cumming over his hand and onto their stomachs. He pressed a kiss to Peter’s chest and Peter kissed the top of his head. There was a moment of rest as they came down from their post orgasm high, lazy kisses exchanged before Thorne carefully moved off him flopping down next to him on the bed. Peter got up, pulled his boxers back up and went into the bathroom grabbing a wet cloth then returning to the bedroom where he cleaned them both up. 

“Think I see stars when we fuck.” Thorne commented as Peter laid down next to him.

“That might be the drugs.” 

His friend curled up against him, leg slung over his, head resting against his chest and hand on his stomach. “Cool with me staying the night again?”

“Course,” he responded wrapping an arm around him and holding him closer as if to make sure he understood that he wanted him right here with him in this bed.

He found it easier to fall asleep the two nights when Thorne was in his bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter expected to wake to a warm body against him but was disappointed to find himself alone in his bed when he rolled onto his side tossing out his arm to feel around the bed. He groaned pulling his pillow close to his chest shoving his face against it as he tried to go back to sleep. The idea of sleep was interrupted when he heard voices from the kitchen, his eyes snapping open.

“Fuck, are you fucking kidding me?” He muttered to himself as he quickly scrambled out of bed.

He eventually found his discarded jeans on the floor, he went to his dresser grabbing a bottle of Tylenol popping three tablets into his mouth and chasing it with beer before exiting his room and heading towards the kitchen where he most definitely heard his aunt’s firm toned voice followed by a familiar male voice. When Peter entered the kitchen, head throbbing and looking like he’d been run over by a bus he found his aunt seated at the kitchen table, Thorne sitting across from her, shit eating grin on his face as he turned to look at Peter giving him a short wave.

“Peter, you didn’t tell me your friend here was going to spend the night.” She commented looking at her nephew, a stern look on her face.

He scratched at the back of his neck nervously laughing as he took a seat at the table between the two of them, he scooted his chair closer to Throne reaching under the table to smack his leg. 

“Yeah well y’know I kind of, he just um, well, we were at that pub near the house, and just thought he might prefer sleeping here. On the floor, in my room, y’know, better than in his car.” He found himself rambling, he could feel Thorne watching him, amused by this.

“You’ve not mentioned him before.” 

“Right, well y’know didn’t think it was important.” Peter responded shrugging; eyes focused on the table.

“That’s Peter for you, hurtful you not telling your family about me.” Thorne teased; Peter glared at him.

He reminded himself he was a fully grown man and there was genuinely no reason to care so much about his aunt meeting one of the people he spent a lot of his time around. Other than the fact him and said friend had spent all night drinking and snorting coke, had sex two or three times throughout the course of the night, and one of those times happened to be in his aunt’s house. He worried about what Thorne told her, but he doubted he’d told her much of anything outside of his name and why he was in the area, that they’d known each other for a period of time that was spread out and long and short all at once. Peter glanced at his aunt who was watching the two of them, he couldn’t exactly tell how angry she might be if she were even angry to start with. 

“He does tend to keep things to himself, it’s always been a problem. How long did you say you’re in the area for?”

“Ah well not too sure, I was supposed to leave yesterday, but think I might stick around a few days longer.” He replied placing a hand on Peter’s leg under the table.

He supposed that meant he would have to stick around a few days more now himself. He’d not planned on staying longer, he’d only planned on attending the funeral of a man who hated him deeply then hopping on the first plane back to Vegas where he would drink and drink until he forgot he ever had any relatives at all. Now he was staying at his aunt’s, his complicated friends with benefit situation sitting at the table with him talking about he was going to stay in the country for awhile longer. Peter knew he could leave, could go back home and see Thorne whenever they happened to meet up again, but he preferred having him nearby, knowing he could text him, and in a few minutes be hanging out with him.

“I see, you said that you’re a musician.”

“I am, actually I’m rather famous, more or less. It’s complicated lately, bit of a situation happened in the states, but that’s been settled mostly.” 

“I see, Peter how long do you plan on staying here?”

“Oh well um, guess a few more days. I won’t overstay, I promise.” He assured her.

He could always shack up with Thorne, the hotel was nice even if it did smell horrific and look like a crime scene. He knew the second Thorne was out of the house that his aunt would be on his ass about this, about whatever she knew or suspected. 

“Nothing to worry about, I do like having you here, I never see enough of you.”

“Sorry, try to stay in contact more.” He muttered running his fingers back through his hair.

Thorne gave his leg a squeeze, Peter looked at him, he couldn’t read exactly the way he was looking at him, but he still sort of wanted to hit him for being such a smug prick.

“I think it’s time for me to pop off, got some things to take care of, people to meet. It was absolutely lovely meeting you.” He said as he got up from his seat, Peter got up after him already grabbing him by the arm.

“It was nice to meet you too; I never see any of Peter’s friends.” She said, tight lipped smile and that look in her dark eyes that just screamed judgement.

Peter dragged him towards the front door and out into the cool morning air.

“Thanks for that, now I gotta deal with her on my ass about my taste in friends.” Peter hissed at him.

Thorne kissed him, “c’mon it’s funny, look, hey I will make it up to you. Yeah? Some drinks tonight, I’ll suck your cock, sound good?” 

It did, he begrudgingly had to admit sounded good.

“Fine, you’re still an absolute bastard y’know.”

He kissed him again, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Yeah I am, top quality of mine y’know, what people love so much about me, hating me.”

Peter laughed; he placed a hand against his hip pulling him close. “I hate you very much right now.” He whispered, all venom missing from the words as he kissed him again.

The moment felt alarmingly comfortable and sweet, he wanted to chase it as much as he wanted to run from it. Thorne kissed the corner of his mouth then his cheek, nose brushing against his skin. “Sorry though, she seems alright minus the stick up her ass.” 

Peter smiled softly, he placed a hand against his back unsure how to even handle this moment or the words lodged in his throat that he’d rather die than let out. He knew if he said it no matter what the moment was like, no matter what he felt right now or any time that he held him or touched him or looked into his eyes that Thorne would bolt if he spoke those words. So, he kept them locked inside himself, gently pushed his friend back a step.

“See you later, give you a call and maybe we can just stay the night at your hotel room.” 

“Sounds good, see ya.” 

Peter watched him as he walked away, he hated the way his stupid heart was beating in his chest and the way he missed him like crazy already. Stupid feelings, he wasn’t supposed to be having feelings, he’d never in the time knowing him meant to have feelings towards him.

He headed back into the house remembering he had an old woman in the kitchen who probably wanted to rip his head off. When he reentered the kitchen, she was still seated at the table.

“How did you meet him?”

“Just y’know we know some of the same people, went to the same sort of events.” Peter answered as he took a seat.

His aunt got up from the table going to the fridge to get out eggs and a pack of bacon, he wanted to tell her not to worry about cooking for him, but that would result in a lecture about how he was far too skinny and how she never saw him eat anything other than Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and chocolate. Sometimes those things combined.

“Are you two close?”

“I mean we’re friends, see each other sometimes usually like don’t hang out for months at a time.” 

His aunt was quiet as she went about cooking, he wasn’t sure if the quiet was good.

“You’re being safe, aren’t you?”

“Ah fucking Hell, I don’t wanna have this talk with you.” He complained burying his face in his hands.

He currently didn’t want to chase Thorne down to tell him he might be in love with him, he instead wanted to punch him in the face for the fact he was now having the safe sex talk with his aunt.

“I just want to make sure, I tried to ask the same when you were dating that woman, what was her name?”

“Ginger,” was his muffled reply.

“Then you hung up on me, it’s a reasonable question.”

He supposed it was, but also, he was a grown man. He knew to be safe, knew to get tested regularly to make sure he had nothing, his partners didn’t have anything, and everybody was safe. Save for last night where they’d been too in the moment and drunk to give a shit about searching for a condom, but outside of a few dozen moments they typically used a condom if they had one. Peter still didn’t want to talk to his aunt about this, he liked keeping her far away from his life, the life he lived that he knew worried her.

“Yeah, but like…Do we really need to talk about this stuff?” 

“We should, Lord knows that we didn’t when you were a teenager. I am still amazed that you never got some girl pregnant.”

He admittedly was a bit surprised at that himself, but he supposed it helped a lot of the girls despised him and wouldn’t go past a blow job.

“Lucky I guess, look don’t gotta worry about that.”

He only looked up when his aunt sat a plate of bacon, egg, and toast in front of him. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t hungry, and that the idea of food right now made his stomach turn, but then he’d have to explain his system was loaded up on alcohol and cocaine from the night before. He didn’t want to go into that conversation. So instead he ate, mostly scooted food around his plate with his fork while she watched him, raking her old brain for another thing to question him about now that a part of his life had been shown to her.

“He seems…. He seems like the type that you used to go around with.”

“He’s not, not a thing like those bastards were.” Peter defended.

He thought about Thorne in the bathroom looking at his wrist scar, saying how he wouldn’t have just abandoned him after that. He believed him, had no reason not to believe him when he spoke so softly and looked at him in such a way.

“It’s just that, the way he talks and dresses, are you sure that it’s good to be friends with him?”

“It is, I’m not going to stop being friends with him just because he seems like the wrong type.” 

“I’m just worried about you, sometimes I feel like you’re slipping back into the way things were when you were a teenager.”

Her tone was gentle, worried. He knew what she was scared about, what she worried was going to end up happening, and he hated himself for ever making her go through that. He wouldn’t have done it to begin with if he’d known she gave a shit about him, if he’d known that she would find him in the tub like that. Now he was in his thirties and had to deal with these occasional conversations where it was spoken of, but never directly. She was scared to say it, scared that it might trigger it to happen again. He wanted to assure her that he wasn’t actively suicidal anymore, sure he still wanted to die, but he didn’t actively try to end his own life anymore. He kept finding reasons to not do that; he had new shows to do, there was a new drama on Showtime he wanted to watch, he had a makeup artist to fire when he got back home, and then he knew Thorne would probably get lonely if he was dead.

“I promise, it isn’t like that. I know he doesn’t seem like it, but he does look after me.” 

Thorne’s idea of care involved copious amounts of booze and forgetting the things that hurt them, but at least Peter was forgetting with somebody else instead of alone in his flat back in Vegas. 

“Just be careful, and I want you to start seeing a therapist again.”

“Sure, I’ll, I’ll get into that once I go back home.”

He wouldn’t, maybe, probably not. He felt the slightest bit guilty that he was sticking around solely for Thorne. He was glad that his aunt didn’t bring that up, that she knew the topics that would make Peter storm off because he was never good at confrontation or talking about the things that truly got under his skin. He ate most of his breakfast, then went to the bathroom to take a shower, dressed, and then decided to go out for awhile until he met up with Thorne later. He felt it might do him some good to get away from everybody, take a walk through town and just think about things until that got to be too much.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter ended up sitting in a diner, seated at a corner booth looking out the large window at the people passing by. He’d already gone through two cups of coffee, snuck off to the men’s room to smoke a blunt then another one after that. He’d been off and on texting Thorne for the past hour telling him where he was at, explaining he’d just been bored, and needed to get away from his aunt’s house for a bit. Which led to his friend offering for him to just come crash at his hotel room for the night or maybe the next day, Peter made sure to call and let his aunt know that he might stay over at his friend’s. That call of course had come along with his aunt asking if everything was okay, him assuring her that he was fine, and her making him promise that he would be safe just in a general sense. He knew she worried and reasonably he knew it was good that she worried, because it meant she loved him, but he still hated it. He didn’t like making anybody worry about him, he didn’t know how to respond to people loving him or caring about him.

The word love rolled around in his brain, a pesky emotion and word that he usually tossed around like it didn’t mean a fucking thing. He’d told countless guys and chicks that he’d loved them, never meant it, not really; it was a word he’d always felt he had to say, was expected to say. He could always tell they’d never loved him either, his relationships were parasitic in nature. He always wanted something from them, usually good sex, drugs, or company. They usually wanted him for a nice penthouse and the clout that came with fucking somebody who was mildly famous. He tried to convince himself that this time wasn’t any different than all the other times, maybe not as shit. Thorne didn’t want him for money, Peter didn’t want him for drugs, though the benefit of free cocaine and free pot was pretty nice. He liked his company though, liked the way he clung onto him when they fell asleep together, liked that stupid way that he looked up at him like just maybe the bastard felt something for him. It was a stupid thought, he wanted to hit himself for it.

“Hey what you doin’ hiding back here?”

He looked up smiling at the sight of his friend, he made a point of ignoring that odd little sensation of anxiety he got at seeing him again, he’d just seen him this morning. 

“Not in the mood for small talk with random assholes here, I also keep sneaking off to the loo to smoke pot, fucking smell like Chong right now.”

Thorne slid into the booth across from him, he leaned across the table burying his face against the side of his neck sniffing him. Peter pushed him away. “What the fuck?”

“You do smell like pot, cheap pot actually. Fucking just ask me next time you want some weed; you know I get the good shit.” He informed him as he settled back into his seat, he placed his boot clad feet onto the seat next to Peter. “Glad you texted me, nearly worried I pissed you off after I talked to your aunt.”

“I’m still pissed, but what can I say you’re the only person in this shit hole I really wanna see.” 

Thorne smiled at him; Peter hated the way it made him feel.

“I’m flattered by that, I think. Wanna get out of this shit hole, go back to mine while I still got the place?”

“God yes, I haven’t had a fucking drink since noon.” He said sliding out of the booth, he paid his bill before the two of them left going to Thorne’s car.

He noticed the left headlight was busted, decided it was better not to ask how that had happened. He just got into the car grabbing one of the unopened cans of beer up from the floor opening it and chugging from it, Agent Orange blared on the car’s sound system, and Peter only half listened to the things that Thorne rambled on about. None of it seemed all too important, he’d punched his bassist in the face earlier in the day for insulting his singing style, another chick he’d pissed off wanted to ruin his life, not that Peter could blame any of them. He knew deep down that Thorne was an absolute douche bag, it was what drew them so close together and so quickly after they’d met. He felt at ease when they were together, sure there were plenty of things about Peter that he knew he couldn’t really share with him like about monsters and the thing about his parents. Thorne knew they were dead, but not a lot outside of that, he’d never asked many questions, Peter was grateful for that. He still hated talking about it and thinking about it. Still in some weird way it felt like Thorne knew him better than other people had known him in his life, he knew what a rotten bastard he was and didn’t even flinch at that. He could be terrible with him, he could be whatever the Hell he wanted to be when they were around each other, and lately vulnerable was what he found himself being around him. Not like he was doing that on purpose, Thorne was the one drawing that out of him, talking to him about his wrist scars, about their problems, wanting to spend nights curled up with him.

It was odd, he didn’t know what to make of it. The moments would come and go so fast that he wasn’t sure he was reading them correctly or if there was a way to read them at all. He glanced over at him watching him, felt that ridiculous fondness well up in his chest, quickly looking away again. He finished his beer and went on to a second one, halfway through his drink by the time they pulled into a parking space outside the hotel. Inside the building guests still glared at them, Thorne seemed to love it, winking and giving a short wave to the women in their fancy dresses and expensive high heels, women who even on their worst day wouldn’t give a low down punk like Thorne the time of day. Peter looped an arm around his waist guiding him towards the lift, away from glares and dirty looks, he smiled when his friend leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Jealous?” He teased as the lift doors slid closed, he moved to stand in front of him, pressed against him.

Peter could smell the bittersweet of expensive wine on his breath, he knew he would taste it on his lips if he’d just lean in a tad bit closer to him.

“Jealous of what, them all glaring at you?” He asked, laughing.

Thorne smirked, he leaned closer, breath hot against his face, a quick featherlight brush of lips against his, a tongue stroking against his bottom lip and he most certainly tasted like wine. Peter placed a hand against the back of his neck, fingers curling against his skin, he pressed his lips to his in a firm kiss, tongue pressing into his mouth wanting to taste him; he tasted of smoke and berries and booze.

“Know what I mean, I like it though.” He whispered against his lips, he rested his forehead against his, hand against Peter’s chest curling against his shirt.

“Yeah?”

Thorne smiled, soft, almost sweet. He kissed Peter, chaste and simple, another kiss to the corner of his mouth then along his jaw, nibbled against his earlobe sending a chill down Peter’s spine.

The lift came to a stop, but they continued to touch and kiss only pausing when the sound of somebody aggressively clearing their throat could be heard behind them. Thorne turned his head to glare at the older man stood behind them, eyes narrowed at the two of them, he turned his attention back to Peter kissing him once more before backing off him, he held his hand as they waited to reach their floor. Peter’s heart was thudding against his chest, he felt fuzzy and lightheaded, he wasn’t sure if he was going to puke or faint at this rate. He didn’t know what he wanted; what Thorne wanted; wasn’t this supposed to be simple? They didn’t do this, they didn’t do getting hot over jealousy, they didn’t do jealousy. Peter almost wanted to punch the old man who was still glaring at them, if it wasn’t for him then they’d still be kissing and maybe Peter could have gotten his mouth to work in the right way to ask why Thorne liked seeing him jealous.

When they reached their floor, Thorne dragged him out of the lift and down the hall to his room, well to their room he supposed. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay here with him, he swore to himself that for real this time he would call his aunt later in the night and in the morning, he wanted her to know he was okay, and that Thorne wasn’t that bad for him.

The hotel room was just as Peter remembered it, if not worse somehow. The TV that was on the floor still remained there except now there was a fire poker sticking out of the screen. Peter wanted to question him about that, wondered where the fuck he even go the fire poker from, why the TV deserved so much of this abuse, but then he remembered that Thorne probably was high off his ass when that happened. He pushed it out of mind, walked past the TV, took off his jacket, kicked off his converses and made his way to the mini fridge where he grabbed out a handful of small bottles of whiskey and vodka, made his way to the couch where he flopped down. He began drinking, listened as Thorne went through the room moving trash out of his way to look for bottles of wine and champagne that weren’t empty, the stereo clicked on, music filling the room. A moment later his friend appeared, bottle of champagne in hand, he chugged from the bottle, head tilted back, clear liquid running down the corners of his mouth down his throat and staining his white t-shirt. Peter enjoyed the sight of that more than one should.

The song that had been in the middle of playing when the stereo had been turned on faded out, replaced now by In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. 

“Love this song, ever drop acid and listen to this?” He asked excitedly.

“Think everybody has done that usually in uni.” He responded fondly.

“Y’know fucking heard that the title is actually supposed to be In The Garden of Eden but the singer was so fucked out of his mind that he just kept slurring through the whole song, why it sounds like absolute horse shit.” He ranted tossing the empty bottle to the floor where it landed with a heavy thud.

Pete snorted, “so a lot like your songs?” He teased.

Thorne glared at him making his way over to him. “What’s that supposed to mean, thought you liked my singing.” He pouted, which failed when he began smiling.

Peter leaned forward, he reached up grabbing him by the front of his shirt pulling him down until their lips met in a slow sticky kiss. “I do like your voice, sound like a bloody angel you do.” 

Thorne laughed pulling back from him, “you must be high as fuck think I sound like an angel. I sound more like Bowie if anything y’know, that’s what I’ve been told.”

Peter hummed in agreement; he wasn’t entirely wrong there. He reached for him again looping his fingers in his belt loops pulling him closer until he was seated on his lap. Thorne rested his hands against his shoulders, leaned down kissing the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, and then finally his lips. The kiss was slow and languid, nothing poetic or beautiful, but Peter loved it. His hands slipped up under his shirt, touched along soft pale skin, fingers traced along scars from way too many fights and accidents that occurred from acts of stupidity. 

“Still mad?” He asked, lips brushing against the side of his neck, hands sliding down towards Peter’s chest, he knew he could feel the way his heart pounded in his chest.

“Nah, not now, she didn’t hate you as much as I thought she would.” He responded laughing lightly.

Thorne nipped against his neck drawing a low moan from him, Peter’s hands shifted down to cup his ass pulling him closer. “Ladies love me or tolerate me.”

“Yeah for like a month then they sober up and want to stab you.” 

Thorne kissed up along his neck, flicked his tongue against his earlobe, Peter’s eyes closed. “You don’t want to stab me yet.” He whispered against his ear.

Peter swallowed hard, wondered what to even say to that, he found he couldn’t say much at all. He could even find the strength to joke it off, he couldn’t read what he meant, was scared of what he might mean. He was scared that what he felt could be returned, scared of making himself look like a fucking moron. He tangled his fingers in his hair pulling him up and kissing him deeply, he decided he wasn’t in the mood to think and to talk, it scared him to think about doing that right now. He wasn’t sober enough or perhaps he wasn’t wasted enough for that. Thorne didn’t seem to mind, he moaned into the kiss, rolled his hips against him, continued to touch him, fingers brushing against his nipples, he whispered against his mouth how much he wanted him, asked if he still wanted that blow job, which Peter very much did.

He watched as his friend slipped down onto the floor kneeling between his legs, Peter reached out petting his fingers through his messy brown hair. Thorne unfastened his pants; Peter lifted his hips long enough for him to slip his jeans and boxers down over his hips revealing his already half hard cock. He wrapped his fingers around the base of it, leaned forward running the flat of his tongue up along the underside from the base to the tip taking the head into his mouth sucking hard. Peter leaned his head back against the couch moaning at the sensation of a hot wet mouth on his cock, dug his nails against his scalp as he felt Thorne take more of his length into his mouth. He hummed around him, tongue lavishing against his heated flesh, tip of his tongue tracing along his cock, flicking against his tip. He rocked his hips gently thrusting into his mouth driving his cock further into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat. Thorne placed his hands against his thighs, nails biting in against his skin as he adjusted himself so he could more easily take his cock further into his mouth and down his throat swallowing around him. Peter moaned, his friend’s name falling from his lips. It was only a couple of minutes before he reached his peak, cumming into his mouth, down his throat. Thorne’s tongue stroking against him as he continued sucking around his softening cock before slowly pulling back off him. He climbed to his feet moving to sit next to Peter on the couch, he grabbed the front of his shirt pulling him down and kissing him deeply, tongue pushing past his lips so he could taste the bitterness of his seed.

Peter kicked his jeans off the rest of the way, he placed a hand between his friend’s legs rubbing against the obvious bulge in his black jeans. Thorne moaned into his mouth, bit his bottom lip hard enough to break the skin, tongue lapping against the little beads of blood he’d drawn, he broke from the kiss smirking at him. Peter kissed along his jaw, licked against his skin. He unfastened his jeans with one hand, awkward, but manageable. Thorne grabbed a bottle of oil that had been shoved into the corner of the couch handing it to him. Peter managed to uncap it pouring a little too much of the oil onto his hand coating it before taking hold of his cock slowly stroking him as they continued kissing and touching. Thorne’s fingers were in his hair, his lips pressed against the front of his throat, he licked against Peter’s bobbing Adam’s apple moaning and cursing as he felt Peter’s hand working his cock. He alternated between fast and slow strokes, loving the frustrated whines he could draw from him, loved the rough little pulls at his hair each time he slowed down. He gave him a firm squeeze, on the upstroke he teased the head of his cock with his fingers, the blunt nail of his thumb teasing against his head. 

“Close,” he muttered against Peter’s neck, breath hot against his skin. 

Peter sped up his pace, loved the way he moaned and cried out for him when he came over his hand. Chuckled at the way he began bitching about getting cum on jeans that cost way too much money, but already had stains on them. Peter pressed a kiss against his cheek before getting up from the couch and heading off to the bathroom to clean his own hands, he got a wet cloth returning to the couch tossing it at him. He grabbed up a half empty bottle of red wine before sitting back down.

“What you get for wasting money like that on jeans, they aren’t even cool looking, just fucking jeans.” 

“Like you’d know, I like nice things sometimes too.”

Peter snorted, “sometimes? Fucking Castle Rock and all that junk you got there.” He pointed out.

Thorne tossed the washcloth at him; Peter caught it and threw it to the floor. 

“That place is incredible, not like you can judge me, you got tons of junk. All those weapons and books you hoard.”

Peter moved to lay on the couch laying his legs across Thorne’s lap, he took a drink from the bottle before handing it over to Thorne. “It’s all part of the aesthetic, no reason to knock it.”

“Same with mine, gotta y’know….Fucking the whole rock aesthetic, keep myself entertained y’know.” He badly explained before finishing off the bottle, tossing it to the floor where it hit the champagne bottle, one or both breaking upon contact. 

He watched as Thorne removed his soiled shirt balling it up and tossing it to the side, he had a difficult time getting out of his jeans and underwear with Peter’s legs laying across him, but managed, nonetheless. 

“So if I decided that I like this little shit hole here, quaint with all these lovely people who call us charming little names, I decide to just say fuck it and live here, would you stay too?” Thorne asked, fingers stroking along Peter’s leg.

He sighed leaning his head back against the arm of the couch, head spinning from the booze and the pot from earlier. “I-Why would you wanna live here, place fucking sucks.” He complained.

Thorne smacked his leg. “Not the point, I wanna know, would you stay if I stayed?”

There was a moment of silence as Peter thought about what was the right or wrong answer to that, was there such thing as right or wrong?

“Yeah sure, I would, fuck it.” He finally responded.

Thorne laughed, “fuckin’ hell that’s more loyalty than I get out of my band.”

Peter lifted his head to look at him, “what’s with that question anyway, because I have a lot of shit I’d have to get in order if I was gonna just say fuck it and come back to England for good.”

“Just wondering, because you staying here longer all on account of my being here.” He said pointing to himself.

“Problem with me doing that?”

“No, it’s sweet, gives me reason to stay here awhile longer.” He said smiling at him.

There was something sweet in the way he smiled at him, Peter hated it and loved it, pretended it wasn’t there.

“Don’t get mushy on me.”

“Won’t, promise, you started it anyway.”

Peter grunted in response. He resumed staring up at the ceiling, Thorne rubbed his leg, occasionally his nails scratched against his thigh or his calf, and the music played on the background Circle Jerks fading into a Buzzcocks song he wasn’t in the mood for at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buzzcocks song was Ever Fallen in Love for anybody who might be wondering.


	5. Chapter 5

He hummed content as he felt lips trail between his shoulder blades, a hand pressed against the small of his back. He reached up burying his fingers in tangled dark brown hair, nails scratching against Thorne’s scalp. He felt like he was in blitzed out Heaven; an entire day of drinking and smoking pot, having sex in various parts of the hotel room every so often. It all felt simple, simple enough he could almost ignore how much he wished they could do this all the time. Well maybe not always the drugs and the drinking, but the bed sharing and the way that Thorne continued to kiss along his skin, his touch gentle and adoring. He thought about the theoretical from earlier, how he felt that he really would just drop everything and follow Thorne, why not? He had money, they both had money; Peter liked doing his shows on the Vegas strip, but he could live without them. He could always pick back up on guitar or maybe try the bass again, he was certain in a month or two his friend would kick out yet another band member, he always did.

It was ridiculous to let himself think in such a way, to plan out lives they certainly weren’t living. Thorne wouldn’t want him in his band or touring with him long term, he didn’t want anything with him. Well this, sex, and drinking; Peter could maybe live with that, they’d been going at things this way for so long that his memory was fuzzy about when it started. Peter groaned when he felt teeth bite against the space between his shoulders, he pulled at Thorne’s hair before moving to lay on his side facing him, glaring up at his friend who smirked down at him.

“What did you do that for?”

“Felt like it, you’re gonna be covered in bite marks by the end of the week.” 

“I’ve noticed, my aunt’s noticed them. Shit, speaking of her, I need to call her, let her know you haven’t killed me.” He said as he slowly pulled himself up looking around the bed for his phone, eventually he found it buried beneath the sheets. He climbed out of bed stretching as he pulled her number up.

“What she think we’re gonna have a Sid and Nancy moment or something?”

Peter laughed, “well we are in a hotel and you do have a bit of a Sid Vicious look going for you.” 

“Aw c’mon you know I wouldn’t stab you, too cute for that.” Thorne defended from his spot on the bed, he grabbed the near empty pack of cigarettes from the bedside table.

Peter slipped into the bathroom closing the door behind him as he waited for his aunt to answer the phone.

“Peter, are you okay?”

She sounded worried, he thought back to his teen years and all the times she sounded that way when she’d call his friends parents homes checking in on him. 

“Yeah I’m fine, just thought I’d call you to let you know that I’m alive.” 

“Are you still with that friend of yours?”

“Yeah I am, he’s in the next room, we’re good.”

He could feel her lack of trust in him, in Thorne. Not that he could blame her for not trusting either of them; she knew her nephew and his problems, she knew enough to know Thorne was the type to not be a good influence on somebody like Peter. It was a train wreck waiting to happen or actually it was a totaled train already on fire.

“Do you think that you’ll come back home tonight?”

He smiled, scratched against the back of his neck, it was odd hearing her refer to her home as his home. As home in general, he’d never seen it as home. It had been the place he dreaded returning to growing up, the place where he’d tried to kill himself.

“No, think I’ll stay with Thorne since it’s already late. Might stay tomorrow too, but I’ll call you in the morning to let you know, okay?”

“Okay, just be safe, I love you.”

He swallowed hard rubbing at his burning eyes. “Yeah, see you.” He muttered his reply before ending the call. He sat the phone down on the countertop.

He took a moment to gather himself, splashing cold water on his face. Why the Hell did his aunt have to love him, she shouldn’t, nobody should waste their time and energy on loving him. Yet he found himself loving somebody, hated himself for it, but maybe he could love and be loved. Things felt different between them suddenly, it left him confused, he still felt comfortable as he always had when he was with Thorne, but now there was this constant anxiety in the pit of his stomach when they were together. It was almost a form of torture choosing to stay with him for a day or two, no escaping him or the fact he wanted so badly to just tell him how he was feeling.

Once he felt better, he left the bathroom; Thorne was still sitting on the bed, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, phone in his hand. Peter flopped down next to him on the bed, rested his head against his lap. He sighed content as he felt fingers petting through his hair. Music still blared on the stereo, the room smelled like some of the shittiest punk venues he visited in the States and in England, he was amazed that they hadn’t been tossed out yet. Thorne tossed his phone onto the nightstand, finished his cigarette snubbing it out on the table’s surface. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, she just doesn’t trust you.” Peter responded moving to sit up.

Thorne wrapped an arm around his waist pulling him against his side.

“She think I’m that bad of an influence on you?”

Peter smirked, “yes, she does.”

“That’s a laugh, you’re fucking three years older than me, how the Hell could I influence you?”

Peter pressed a kiss against his jaw. “Hell if I know, she still thinks I’m fifteen.”

She always would treat him that way, he knew that she would. He did occasionally feel guilty that he wasn’t living the stable life that she wanted him to, a life where she wouldn’t have to worry about his safety or mental stability. She’d fought so hard to keep him in their home, out of the system, out of asylums; she’d been certain he could get better, that he wasn’t a lost cause, or that bad. He supposed he spent his adult life striving to prove her dead wrong. 

“She worries, that’s nice, right?” 

“Can be, sometimes it makes me feel like shit.” He admitted. “What about your family?”

Thorne laughed, he took hold of Peter’s hand, fingers brushing against the palm of his hand, stroking lower until he was touching his scar. “My parents kicked me out as soon as possible. Weren’t too pleased with my hobby of setting fires or my slitting my wrists in their home. Put me away for a bit, day I got released just told me to piss off.” He confessed; voice soft, almost sad as he continued to stroke his thumb across the scar on Peter’s wrist.

Peter pressed a kiss against his neck, “sorry to hear that, family fucking sucks sometimes.” 

“That they do, doesn’t matter though, got each other.” 

His tone was soft and unsure, Peter pulled back to look at him feeling a multitude of things at the way he was staring at him. He could swear that maybe he did love him back; he placed a hand against Thorne’s cheek, leaned up and kissed him slowly. Everything felt changed, not like in a bad way, not really; sure, it was terrifying to think that his friend could very well be in love with him, but there was a comfort in that. It was comforting if he didn’t let himself think about how badly it could go if that were the case; if he loved him back, if they started a relationship with each other then it could end at any moment, and that meant they might never speak again. He attempted to not think that way, it was making him want to panic. 

Peter pulled away from him moving to lay back on the bed again, he smiled when Thorne settled himself on his lap, hands against his shoulders as he leaned down kissing him deeply. This was good, he was pretty sure this was good. He rested his hand against the back of his neck, fingers stroking against his skin. He closed his eyes humming feeling content as Thorne kissed along his jaw and down his neck, lips pressing against the center of his chest. He was fine with it when a moment later his friend was laying against him, head resting against his chest and his fingers drumming against his side. Peter wrapped an arm around him holding him closely.

“I love you,” he whispered, eyes closing waiting for a response if there was any to be had.

Thorne didn’t respond, sure that hurt, but he didn’t leave either. He stayed in place, breath warm against his skin. It felt terrifying for the words to be out in the open, he couldn’t very well take them back or play them off as a joke if he wanted to, he didn’t want to though. He needed him to know, even if he didn’t respond or didn’t love him back. Peter fell into a fitful sleep worried about what the morning would bring.

According to the time on his phone when Peter woke up it was a little past ten in the morning, it was the earliest he’d woken up when staying anywhere that wasn’t his aunt’s home. His head was throbbing, a wave of nausea passing over him for a second as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. He looked around noticing it was only him in the bed, not totally out of the normal. He shivered running his fingers back through his hair, it took him a good five minutes before he found the willpower to stumble out of bed and into the bathroom, take a piss, pop some pain killers, wash his face, and then stumble back to the bed where he collapsed. He laid there awhile longer trying to collect all of yesterday’s events. He tensed when he remembered what had happened before he fell asleep.

“Fuck, fucking, stupid Peter.” He scolded as he smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. He rolled onto his back staring up at the ceiling, just now noticing what looked like food stains on the once white ceiling. “Why the actual fuck did I tell him that?” He asked himself, a thing normal people most certainly did.

He tried to assure himself that everything was fine, it didn’t help that Thorne wasn’t in the room with him. Of course, he could have popped out for cigarettes or coffee, might have had to take care of some business, there was no way he was just going to hang around waiting for Peter to wake up. That was it, he’d be back soon, he didn’t just leave. 

Peter climbed out of bed again, this time he decided it best to take a shower and brush his teeth, make himself smell less like rot and sadness. He spent his shower time thinking about why he should not have told his friend who had not the slightest clue how to have an adult relationship that he was in love with him. It had been a moronic thing to do he reminded himself again as he hit his head against the shower wall until his headache worsened. Post shower he didn’t feel any better, he felt like Hell in more ways than one this time. 

He waited awhile longer, an hour passed, and Thorne still wasn’t back. Peter grabbed his phone deciding to call him. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to him, he figured he would just keep it casual, ask him where the Hell he’d run off to, maybe apologize. He looked up when he heard Thorne’s phone ringing, it lay vibrating on the bedside table. 

“Fucking asshole,” he muttered throwing his own phone back down onto the bed. 

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, a frantic beat that made him feel nearly dizzy. He lay back down on the bed not sure if he was more pissed or terrified at the moment, everything hurt inside and out that was for damned sure. He shouldn’t have fucked things up, they’d had a good thing; there’d been absolutely no emotional attachment, just good sex, and hanging out. It had been fine, why did he have to fuck it up by falling in love with him? It was a stupid move on his part, he knew what Thorne was like, he’d ended a marriage by just going out one day and ever coming back home. Why did he think that Thorne would treat this any differently?

He smacked himself in the head again, frustrated with himself. He gave it another two hours before finally accepting that Thorne just wasn’t coming back or if he was then he was going to wait until he knew that Peter was gone. It was painful leaving the hotel alone, getting a cab, and heading back to his aunt’s house. On his way back to her place he booked a ticket for the next flight back to Las Vegas, thankfully he’d be able to leave first thing in the morning. Deep down he hoped he’d hear from him again before then, maybe he’d drop by and apologize, make fun of him for being so paranoid and thinking he’d actually ghost him like that. He liked to think he loved him too, that he’d apologize for freaking him out like that.

He knew none of that would happen, Thorne wasn’t that person.

He paid the driver and stepped out of the cab, heart heavy in his chest as he entered his aunt’s house.

“Peter is that you?” She called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He called back, he stood in the living room wanting to just go back to his room for the rest of the day.

His aunt entered the living room, a look of worry on her face when she saw him. He knew he had to look like Hell, that miserable sort of look he knew he wore when he hit a low point. 

“What happened?” She asked stepping closer to him.

“I fucked up, that’s all.” He told her shrugging his shoulders, he bit at the inside of his mouth angry at himself for being upset over this.

He wanted to be angry with her for looking concerned for him, for wanting to know why he was upset, asking him why he was crying as she wrapped her arms around him hugging him tightly. He offered her no explanation, it was humiliating to have to admit everything, to think about it again. It was bad enough crying over it, he just wanted to not feel anything about it again. He swore to himself when he got back to Vegas he’d work as hard as he needed to get over this, over him.


	6. Chapter 6

The flight back to Las Vegas had felt never ending, so had the cab right back to his flat. He had felt numb as if everything were passing around him while he just vaguely moved through time. He’d thought it would be a relief to be back home, in a completely different country than Thorne, but it didn’t help. If anything, the empty quietness of his penthouse slapped him in the face as a suffocating wave of loneliness came over him again. He pulled out his phone checking it for the hundredth time, there still were no calls or texts; he swallowed around the lump in his throat as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He was unsure of what to even do, he hadn’t planned on being home this soon.

No scratch that, he’d planned on being back home soon after his uncle’s funeral, but then he’d run into Thorne, that was what had changed. He should have just kept to his original plan, shouldn’t have gone down to the pub near his aunt’s house, he shouldn’t have taken Thorne back to her place. He told himself to stop thinking about it, thinking about him, but that was very impossible. He was all over his mind, Peter’s neck still marked with marks from the times they had made out and had sex. He hated himself almost as much as he hated Thorne for what had happened; he hated him for being such a selfish bastard who hadn’t even had the common courtesy to tell him he didn’t love him back, he hated himself for being moronic enough to think it was fine to tell him the way he felt. What was wrong with him anyways? Falling in love for somebody like Thorne, somebody so far up their own ass that they very rarely considered other peoples feelings or wants or needs. That still didn’t feel totally right. He thought about the conversations they had the past few days, the way Thorne touched the scars on his wrists, talked to him like he just maybe wanted him too. That was the thing that killed him the most about this, the feeling of being wanted only to find out that he wasn’t wanted at all.

He bet that Thorne was thrilled to find out that Peter left England, it gave him free run, made things easier on him. Peter poured himself a drink, he went to the living room deciding on watching TV. He flipped mindlessly through channels landing on reality shows and comedies that were never even the slightest bit funny and yet could last for twenty seasons at a time if enough idiots were watching them. Between those channels and during commercial breaks he’d pour himself another drink or two or twenty, he was drunk within two hours. Not the sort of pleasant drunk either, the type of drunk that left him feeling like shit, worse than he’d felt when he’d been sober if that were possible. He felt like he could cry again until he reminded himself how humiliating that was. He still was angry at himself for crying in front of his aunt, remembered the way she’d looked at him before he’d left her place. She’d looked as if she didn’t even want to allow him to leave despite the fact, he was a grown man and could do as he pleased; she’d looked at him as if he were still a child. 

He almost hated himself for not being like his cousins, for not going to university and following through, getting a real career. If he’d done all that then he probably would have met some perfectly normal stable person that he could marry and have some kids with, though he didn’t like kids, and was quite sure he would be a terrible dad. In theory a normal life would have been nice, because it meant he never would have met Thorne, never would have wasted his time on somebody who could care less about him, he was pretty sure anyways. He was pretty sure Thorne didn’t care about him, it sounded right, but at the same time didn’t explain things. He could have tossed him out right after he’d told him that he was in love with him, but he hadn’t. He’d stayed right by his side, held him as he fell asleep; Peter wondered when he’d even left the hotel room then, he wasn’t sure what difference it made though. 

He curled up on the couch bottle in hand, taking small drinks as he watched reality TV. He tried to focus on the partially scripted drama playing out on the screen, but he couldn’t. He could only think about what was wrong with him, what made him fall in love with somebody who didn’t want him. He fell asleep wondering what about him was impossible to love the one time he wanted to feel loved back.

The following day he woke up to somebody pounding on his door. The pounding on the door matched the horrid pounding in his head, he groaned rolling over and off the couch falling to the floor. He lay there for a moment, eyes closed tightly as he tried to ignore whoever was hitting the door so hard, he was pretty damned sure it was actually going to break off the hinges in a minute.

“Fucking hold on!” He shouted, voice echoing.

The pounding continued. Peter slowly climbed to his feet stumbling slightly as he made his way to the front door, he was in no mood for this; if it was his assistant or anybody else under his employ then he was going to fire them right on the spot. He unlocked the door yanking it open, he tensed seeing Thorne standing on the other side, crooked smile on his face as he looked at Peter.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He began to shut the door again only to be stopped by Thorne placing a hand against it, one boot clad foot toeing the threshold as if Peter would actually let him come inside.

“Listen, hey um just give me a minute. Explain myself, yeah?”

Peter laughed, “explain yourself? Seriously, you just fucking show up after dodging me and think I actually want to talk to you.”

“Sort of, I didn’t exactly plan out what I’d say. I was hoping that maybe you wouldn’t be too upset really.”

He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or scream, he did deeply consider punching him in the face. “Yeah why wouldn’t I be upset, not like I fucking told you I love you or anything you selfish little fuck.” He shouted at him; he was certain his neighbors were loving this. He placed a hand against Thorne’s chest pushing him back out into the hallway. “I’m beyond upset, the fact you even fucking think you can just show up here like it’s fine is bull shit.”

“I’m not doing that, I swear, I know it isn’t fine. Look I fucked up, but you have to understand you really fuckin’ caught me off guard with that shit y’know?” 

Peter closed his eyes counting to ten, he opened them again still feeling hurt and angry. He’d wanted to see him, he’d wanted to speak to him, and understand what had happened. He could ask him a million questions and yet all he wanted to do was hit him and scream at him, he wasn’t ready to talk. 

“Fuck you Thorne.” He said, voice exhausted as he stepped back inside slamming and locking the door behind him.

“I’ll be here then; I’ll wait until you’re ready to talk!”

Peter flipped off the closed door as he made his way to the bar. He laughed to himself as he considered calling security claiming Thorne was just some crazed junkie stalking and harassing him, but that seemed a bit mean. He grabbed a bottle of tequila and made his way back to his bathroom, he drank and showered, changed into clean clothes then went back to the front door. He looked out the peep hole to see that Thorne still was in fact standing outside waiting for him, he was sure that he’d get bored in an hour or two, give up and go back to wherever the Hell he was staying at. 

If this had happened in England, he would have been alright, they could have talked. That would have been the time for it to happen, he’d wanted so fucking badly for Thorne to show up at his aunt’s house and apologize, to explain himself. He’d wanted to forgive him, to just fall asleep in bed with him, and maybe someday laugh about how absolutely fucking ridiculous they’d both been over this, over everything. Yet that hadn’t happened, he’d cried alone in his bed like a fucking teenager, and then in the morning he’d boarded a plane back to Vegas. He didn’t know how to approach this or speak to him without screaming or crying; he didn’t want to talk to him while he felt this way, he was scared of what Thorne would even say to him. He was certain that he wanted to explain to him all the ways that he wasn’t in love with him and how he was incapable of ever loving him back, how maybe things were just too weird now and they should never talk again. The idea scared him, which he found hilarious. He shouldn’t worry about never seeing him again, but the longer they did this then the longer Peter could hold onto the idea that this wasn’t over yet. He hurt too badly to deal with a conversation about how this wasn’t working out.

He returned to the couch this time turning on the stereo, music blaring so he couldn’t hear the occasional knocking on the door. It wasn’t his problem if Thorne wanted to be that jackass who waited outside like some dumb mutt waiting to be let inside and told that what he did wasn’t that shitty.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody for reading this fic of mine, I'll be writing more fics about these two in the future.

It was nearly nine at night when Peter decided to check the front door again, he had convinced himself at some point during his day that Thorne had fucked off, there was no way he would still be hanging outside of his penthouse waiting on him like a pathetic dog. He shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when he opened the door to find Thorne sitting there on the ground playing with the rings on his fingers. He immediately got to his feet when Peter opened the door, a hopefulness on his stupid face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, have you actually been out here all day?”

“Yes, well not all day, I popped off to take a piss once, but like other than that I haven’t really left.” 

“Come inside,” he said, tired and defeated as he stepped aside allowing the other man into his flat. He shut and locked the door behind them wondering if he just fucked up by letting him inside.

Thorne idled by the bar, typically he would already be drinking and making himself at home. At least he was bright enough to know that now wasn’t the time for that.

“So, what do you want to say?”

“Right, well I’ve actually been thinking about that. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have run off like that, and I didn’t exactly plan on doing that.” He explained, he seemed jittery and nervous, perhaps because this was the most sober, he’d been in a while. “I was going to stay all night, maybe talk in the morning, but like you fell asleep and then I just thought about things. Like I thought about my ex and the ex before her and none of that went fucking well at all, you know that.”

“I didn’t ask to marry you, you fucking idiot. I just told you that I loved you, could have at least just told me that you don’t love me back, or don’t want a relationship with me. What, are you worried I’d take half your shit in court or something, because if you haven’t noticed I’m just as loaded as you.”

“No, that isn’t it. Just look, you’ve thought about it too, I know you. We suck, we suck at dating and being with people, sooner or later you’d hate my fucking guts. I just thought….I don’t know what I was thinking, guess I wasn’t thinking much at all. I just, things had been going so good, it scared me, alright.” He said as he ran his fingers back through his hair.

He really wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t be anymore. He felt exhausted at this point, it felt nice to actually be standing in a room with him again even if this wasn’t the conversation that he had wanted to have with him. This wasn’t how he’d wanted things to be, he knew it was his own fault for starting this to begin with.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that, that I’m in love with you.” 

Thorne stepped up to him, he started to reach out to touch him but thought better of it. “Don’t be sorry, I mean it’s weird y’know, not a fucking clue why you’d love me.” He said smiling sadly, “you sure that you do love me?”

“Believe it or not I’m sure, I’ve been trying to convince myself I don’t, but I still do.” 

“You could probably do better than me.”

“I could, I guess I don’t want to though. Look, we can forget any of this happened if you want to, or we can just not see each other again.” Peter offered, both options would hurt, but he wasn’t sure he could handle the suffocating uncertainty of where things lay right now.

“I don’t want that, I like being around you, spending those few days with you was really nice. Like, nobody else actually gives a shit about me, I know my band fucking hates me, they don’t exactly hide that from me. You’ve always been good to me in one way or another, I just got comfortable with you.” 

“I got comfortable too, started forgetting what you’re like.” 

“Yeah, look I, I want to tell you that I feel that way about you too, but I can’t. I’m not saying that I don’t feel that way, but I just don’t know if I can say that yet.” This time he did take hold of Peter’s hand, “I’d like if we could just still be like we were, in England y’know. I know it’ll be awkward, obviously you can toss me out again if you’d like, but I want to see where this goes.” 

Peter knew he could change his mind in a heartbeat, he knew that Thorne could grow bored of him in a week or a month. He had a hard time believing that he was in love with him or could even begin to feel like that with him, but he was in the mood to cling desperately to that idea. He sighed pulling him to him and hugging him tightly. 

“We’ll give it a shot, see where it goes. Think for now though we should just go to bed, reward you for not being a total asshole.” He said smiling as he pulled away from him.

Thorne relaxed at his words, at knowing he wasn’t going to be kicked out. He went to the bar grabbing a bottle of tequila before they went back to the bedroom. They undressed down to their boxers before climbing into bed, Peter turned the TV on flipping it to MTV while they passed the bottle back and forth, only speaking to take the piss out of the people on the shows that came on, talking shit about the new pop bands that were rising in the charts lately. Thorne wrapped an arm around his shoulders at some point and Peter felt comfortable enough to rest his head on his chest. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, and he knew it could go South at any moment, he could even wake up alone in his bed, but for right now it was a sort of step forward. He still loved him despite himself, felt happier now that he could fall asleep being held by him and knowing he was at least offering to try having some form of relationship with him.


End file.
